Harry Potter and the Unfortunate Events
by Celestianpower
Summary: A 'Harry Potter' and 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' crossover. The three Baudelaires go to Hogwarts but what - or perhaps - who will they find when they get there?
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Unfortunate Events**

By Celestianpower for I own the copyright for neither Harry Potter nor A Series of Unfortunate Events. If I did, do you really think I'd be writing this?

Note: The Harry Potter stuff is set just after The Prisoner of Azkaban and the A Series of Unfortunate Events stuff is set just after Book the Third: The Wide Window.

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_To Beatrice,_

_The first kiss was magical,_

_Now not even magic can make you return._

Chapter 1

"Wake up, Harry! Wake up!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, shaking Harry, "Wake up or we'll be late for the Hogwarts Express!"

A few minutes into Molly's tirade upon his senses, Harry finally came to the conclusion that he couldn't stay in his dream world any longer: he would have to finish his duel with the Acromantula tomorrow night. "Alright, alright!" he said as he opened his eyes.

Harry was a thin boy of fourteen years, with glasses and long, scruffy hair. No matter how much he tried, he could never make it sit flat on his head and this morning was no different. As usual, Mrs. Weasley attempted to flatten it, but to no avail. The most intriguing thing about this boy was, however, not his hair but what it concealed. Underneath his flapping fringe was a lightning-shaped scar, a memento of his brush with Voldemort as a baby.

Around Harry was a hive of activity. Chests flew everywhere, owls hooted, parchments were scattered across every workspace possible, breakfast whizzed off to its various recipients and a general air of excitement filled the crowded kitchen, Mrs. Weasley in the centre attempting to control the ruckus. You could tell at a glance the new term was about to begin. Having woken up slightly, Harry was digging into a large portion of Scrambled eggs next to his best friends Ron and Hermione.

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It couldn't be any more different for the Baudelaire children on their first day of Hogwarts. Far from the loving and caring Mrs. Weasley to wake them up, they only had the hard mattress on Mr. Poe's hard bed and the musty smell of old socks - and Edgar and Albert, Mr. Poe's unpleasant children of course. The Baudelaires were orphans (a word which here means "children who's parents died in a fire that destroyed their home and all of their possessions"). Misfortune hounded them everywhere from this moment onwards.

Violet was the first to wake and she promptly woke her two siblings. Violet was an inventor and a good one at that. She loved to invent things and was always being complemented for it but since her parents' death, this skill has become a necessity. Klaus loved to read and he had a passion for books. Sunny, while only a baby, was particularly adept at using her teeth and could bite through almost anything.

Despite their age, Dumbledore had given the three talented orphans a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, having seen the strength of character they had shown through all of the misfortune that had befallen them. They were very grateful, given the guardians that they had had before and the ends that they had met (a phrase which in this context means, "been murdered by Count Olaf"). They were sure that Dumbledore would be able to protect them where others had failed.

As they got dressed, their mood lifted slightly. "We're actually going to Hogwarts today!" Klaus remarked, daring himself to believe that things would get better with this new start. "Grashfhelt" Sunny replied. Like many infants and babies, Sunny could only communicate using sounds only comprehensible to those closest to her. In this case, she probably meant something along the lines of, "Yes, I hope it'll make a new start for us", almost reading Klaus' mind.

"Well, I'm looking forward to Transfiguration," said Violet, stuffing some ancient-looking textbook into her trunk, "I think it'll be fascinating!"

"I think I'll prefer Care of Magical creatures, it'll be great to see some of the creatures from these books in real life." said Klaus.

"Gaksha!" said Sunny, which probably meant, "Because I'm too young to be a student, I get to help Hagrid out". Violet had told Dumbledore about her sister's aptitude at biting and that's where he said that she'd enjoy most.

"Yes, Sunny, it's all very exciting, isn't it?" said Violet, smiling for she too had made herself believe that Count Olaf was finally out of their lives.

"Well, we had better eat some breakfast before we have to go," said Klaus.

"I agree" Violet replied as she picked up her watermelon-sized sister and started to walk down the stairs.

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With all of the last-minute essays complete and chests full to bursting with robes, books and parchments, the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione set off for King's Cross in Mr. Weasley's new Ford Anglia (which since the catastrophe with the flying mechanism in the last one, had not being enchanted to fly). It was quite a long journey to the station but an enjoyable one nonetheless. Harry had not had much time to spend with his friends since his arrival at the Burrow. Most of his summer had been spent in the company of the frightful Dursleys: his stern Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Cousin Dudley. A mean family, they hated Harry in every way and despised his powers. Luckily, Harry had managed to scare them into leaving him alone, however, due to the "murderer" Sirius Black being his godfather. On their way to the station, as Mr. Weasley swerved to miss the traffic coming the other way, the three friends played some Wizard Chess and you could hear delighted laughs coming from inside all the way.

At the station, the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione got out of the car feeling very excited about the prospects of a new term, new subjects and life amongst their friends again at Hogwarts.

"Goodbye children!" said Molly, holding back tears as he hugged each of them hard in turn. She paused for a while on Harry, savouring the moment. "Take care dear"

"Thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley!" chorused Harry and Hermione as they leapt through into Platform Nine and Three Quarters, racing onto the puffing Train.

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The Baudelaires had a much quieter journey than that of the Weasleys for they were much more nervous than the Weasleys. A first day of a new term at a new school is always daunting. Not quite as daunting as facing down a vicious mountain lion at midnight for vital notes detailing the whereabouts of a significant tap-dancing class but slightly more daunting than searching the lost property of an alphabetised hotel for a lost paper clip. Now, if that aforementioned lost property department were to be guarded by three twins brandishing loaded wall staplers then that would be a different matter entirely. However, since such a lost property department's staple-laden workers were notably absent from such a scene, searching for that thrice-aforementioned (a word which here means "repeated ad nauseam") paper clip was incomparable to that of three orphans searching for happiness once again in their lives.

"Hop out then children – good luck!" said Mr. Poe, in between coughing fits. "Have a nice time at St Augustine's."

"We will!" the siblings said, the doubt in their voices obvious to all but Mr. Poe, who was busy coughing again. "Thanks for everything!" they said politely.

"Good -", he coughed again, "- bye".

The car drove off into the mist of that Sunday afternoon and once again, the Baudelaires were left alone.

"I hate lying to him", said Klaus, "I hope he understands later".

"Well", Violet said, uneasily, "Dumbledore said the train was at Platform Nine and three-quarters, but I only see Platforms Nine and Ten. Where could he mean?"

"Are you lost?" said a red-haired woman, seeing the look of bewilderment on her face,

"What are you looking for?"

"Ummm, we're looking for Platform Nine and Three-quarters, madam", said Violet, hesitantly, "but it doesn't seem to be here."

"Ah, who sent you?" said the kindly lady.

"Dumbledore, miss."

"Ah, you must be the new children I heard Dumbledore mention. He thinks a lot of you, you know. Very impressed he was. I'm Molly Weasley, my Son will be in your

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Well, there aren't any free compartments anywhere", Hermione said finally after an extensive search of the train, "Where are we going to spend the journey?"

"There was one compartment", said Ron, "it only had three people in it."

"Yeah, and one was a baby", Harry added.

"I thought that babies weren't allowed at Hogwarts, Hermione," said Ron.

"Neither did I", agreed Harry.

"Have neither of you read Hogwarts: A History?" said a brusque Hermione, "In chapter 2, it clearly states that at 12 different points in its history, Hogwarts has housed babies. Do keep up!"

"Why would we need to read that when we have you here – our walking textbook?" chorused Ron and Harry, as if this conversation had been played out many times before.

"Humph! I won't be here forever. Think of your exams!" said Hermione, as always on this topic, exasperated.

"Enough arguing – we never get anywhere!" replied Harry, "we have a compartment to find."

"Well, as I said, there was one just down there."

"We'll have to go in that one then," said Harry, slightly grudgingly, "I like us having a compartment to ourselves."

"Plus, they looked in our year, except – I didn't think they allowed admissions to fourth Year... I hope they're nice", added Ron.

Hermione held her tongue, "We'll soon find out."

With that, she took off down the carriage, almost knocking over two giggling second years and quickly dodging to avoid a first year carrying a large handful of Chocolate Frog cards.

"I guess there's nothing else for it – come on, Harry!" Ron said as he set off to follow Hermione.

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The compartment door slid open, squeaking loudly and startling the Baudelaires inside. A mismatched trio of youths (a phrase which here means "a short boy with jet-black hair and glasses, a taller girl with large bushy hair and a skinny redhead") entered through the hole created by the opening of a door, as is often the case when a door opens.

"Excuse me, can we come in here?" asked the short boy with jet-black hair and glasses.

"Trankla!" said Sunny, which probably meant something along the lines of "What a mismatched trio of youths!"

"What Sunny means", translated Violet quickly, "is 'Why, of course – we'd be delighted by the presence of your company'".

"Yes, we're new here", said Klaus.

Suddenly, the door once again burst open, leaving the ensuing hole available for more unexpected arrivals. Through the doorway strode a tall, white-faced boy who resembled facially a certain rodent (which shall remain nameless). His long, white hair swishing in the draft coming from the now open door, he stood, flanked by two boys of whom the Baudelaires were having difficulty determining the species. Between these two large, brutal-looking individuals, Draco looked not dissimilar to an oxpecker, a creature whose sole purpose is to east the ticks from a hippopotamuses back. For many decades, debate has waged about the pluralisation of "hippopotamus". Some argue that as the word ends in "us", it's plural should naturally be "mi" but others counter argue that as "hippopotamus" is not of Latin descent, it should be pluralised with the regular "es" ending. Others still counter argue this argument by saying that by popularisation, hippopotami should become the accepted plural. Yet more argue that this argument is nonsensical – the public shouldn't control grammar and spelling. From this argument, it is then counter argued that a state-run spelling and grammar system isn't any good either. The major dictionaries also cannot decide on a general system. The Oxford English Dictionary argues for hippopotami, despite its incorrectness. You see, the nature of humanity is to argue, like two waiters at a certain seafood restaurant on a certain starlit night in front of a certain person, ordering a certain salmon dish.

"Potter!" the white-haired, white-faced boy said in his usual, slimy voice, "You found a compartment then, Potter? Oh, and what a compartment." He looked pointedly at the Baudelaires, "What a collection. I didn't think even you would stoop this low, Potter".

"Horchos!" said Sunny, meaning something along the lines of "I resent that implication!"

"Awww, how sweet. Ickle goo-goo baby speaks, does she?" said Draco, scathingly.

"Hey – she's just a baby," said Harry.

"Yes, I wondered when our very own hero would chime in. You think you're so great, don't you, Potter?" his voice became more mordacious (a word which here means "nasty") with every breath, "He-who-must-be-named would have been proud, another Slytherin added to the fold."

At that, Harry was no longer able to subdue his anger and he lunged at Draco's smarmy face with all of the power he could muster, despite Ron and Hermione's attempts to stop him. With one swift kick, Goyle had him on the floor, pain rushing through his right leg. "I would get that seen to if I were you, that looks nasty," said Draco, laughing to himself quietly, "I'll be sure to see more of you, Potter. Let's hope you do better next time, eh?"

And with that and a swish of his hair, Draco and his ape-like companions were gone through the doorway, still chuckling to themselves.

"Don't worry, Harry", said Hermione, in an attempt to comfort him, "I'm sure it's not too bad – Madame Pomfrey will fix you up in no time".

"We're very sorry for this", said Violet, softly, "We didn't mean to cause any trouble. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, alright?" Harry said, brusquely. Harry wasn't focusing on the pain in his leg – Draco beat him. He was Harry Potter; he could beat anything, couldn't he? After a few moments, he hastily got up, remembering his current position, on the floor.

"So who are you?" he said, changing the subject quickly.

"Well, I'm Violet Baudelaire, these are my siblings" said Violet, uneasily, "are you sure you're OK?"

"As Hermione said, although it hurts a bit now, Madame Pomfrey can work wonders." said Harry, slightly irritated about the subject being raised once again, he's always been able to look after himself.

"So you're Harry Potter? I've heard a lot about you", said Klaus, "Vanquished Lord Voldemort didn't you?"

Hermione and Ron cringed loudly at the sound of his name, should such an action be possible. "Never say that, please."

"Oh for Pete's sake" said Harry, with mild disgust. "Oh for Pete's sake" has a long and complex etymology. Then commonly accepted theory among many etymologists is that the phrase is a bowdlerisation of "For God's sake", using Saint Peter instead of God him/herself. However, many disrespected lexicographers would have you believe that it is based in Polyethylene terephthalate, a thermoplastic resin of the Polystyrene family (a phrase which here means "plastic"). It may also have a lot to do with a certain receptionist's certain husband.

"Well, Dumbledore told me and I just assumed…" said Klaus uneasily.

"Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard", replied Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Wow – he's the headmaster of the school, right? Is he nice?" said Violet, getting slightly excited at the prospect of an important wizard being there to protect her. Perhaps her and her siblings can escape Olaf this time.

"He's really cool", said Ron, "really cool indeed – I wouldn't recommend getting on the wrong side of him though: as we said, he's very powerful."

"He would never use his powers on a student", said Hermione, "He's a fair headmaster, respected by all of the students."

Ron cut in. "Except for Slytherin!" he said, "Hope you don't get sorted into Slytherin. That's a point – how will you get sorted?"

"Yurtza!" said Sunny, which probably meant something along the lines of "We were told to meet Professor McGonagall when we got to the gates"

"What sunny means", Violet translated, "is that we were told to meet Professor McGonagall (whoever she is) when we got to the gates. How do we get to the gates – does the train go all the way there?"

"I'm not sure", said Harry, "The first-years travel by boat the rest of the way, but you're not first-years. I really don't know. Maybe you should just travel with us in the carriages up to the castle."

"Well, actually, Hogwarts: A History (which, incidentally, you two should read) says that you, as it's you're first time, should go with Hagrid along the river to the castle", said Hermione.

"I definitely will", said Klaus, excitedly, "I love to read. Have you read –"

Just at that moment, Harry, Hermione and Ron heard the familiar sound of the Tea Lady, making her rounds up and down the train. Ron jumped up. "That's the Tea Lady! I'm getting quite hungry here – I really do fancy some Chocolate frogs!"

"What are chocolate frogs?" Klaus asked eagerly.

"Ah, you'll find out", said Ron, "they're really cool"

A round of frantic buying ensued, the usual argument broke out about whether Harry should buy everyone's. Galleons, Sickles and Knuts flew about as the six bought so many sweets and chocolates, any normal human would be sick, like I was one Sunday afternoon in June. Their money sacks considerably emptier and arms laden with sugary products, the six students waddled back into their compartment and began munching happily, the incident with Draco fully behind them. Harry had persuaded himself that his loss meant nothing – he could still beat anything he faced.

As the afternoon started drawing to a close, the hole in the wall reappeared with the opening of the door. This time, a wholly nicer sight greeted the six of them, Neville Longbottom, a boy also starting fourth year was the one to appear in the doorway with currently devoid of his normally ever-present toad, Trevor.

"Hi, have any of you seen Trevor?" he said, slightly out of breath.

"Why, has he gone missing again?" said Hermione, "When did you last see him?"

"Garsha?" implored Sunny, which probably meant something along the lines of "Who (or indeed, what) is Trevor?"

"Who's Trevor?" asked Klaus, diligently translating.

"He's my pet toad. He always goes missing."

"No, we haven't seen him", said Ron, "Not since last year, anyway."

"Well, can you help me find him?" asked Neville, "I'm really worried."

"Yeah, sure" said Harry, "Come on, Ron."

"Can I come?" asked Klaus, excitedly, "I've just read a book about toads."

"Sure", said Harry and with that, Harry, Ron and Neville left through the hole, sealing it up behind them.

"So what classes are you going to take, do you think, Violet?", asked Hermione, reaching for the last Pumpkin Pasty.

"Well, from the little Dumbledore mentioned, I really like the sound of Transfiguration", said Violet.

"That's a very difficult lesson you know, Violet. It takes a lot of skill and a lot of practice. Plus, Professor McGonagall is the teacher, she's very strict."

"Uvlum!" reminded Sunny.

"Yes, Sunny. We have to met her when we get to the castle."

"You don't want to do Divination", Hermione said scornfully, " a load of rubbish".

"Klaus did say something about that from one of the books he read."

"Yeah, really stupid." replied Hermione, having finished her Pumpkin Pasty, moving on to a sherbet lemon.

"So where do we sleep at the castle?" asked Violet, reaching for a Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean.

"That depends on your house", replied Hermione, "I can't tell you until you're sorted but you get a dormitory and a common room. I'm in Gryffindor."

"Ewww! Yuk! That's disgusting!" cried Violet suddenly, "It tastes like ... I don't know what it is ... Chicken-flavoured ice cream. It's revolting"

Hermione chuckled to herself. "Yes, I never eat Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans any more, myself. You never know what flavour you're going to get..."

Harry, Ron and Klaus rushed back in, panting. "We found Trevor" said Harry, slightly out of breath, "but the train is nearly there – we have to change, quickly!"

"Oh no, time's just gone so fast", said Hermione, pulling her cloak on.

"So we put our cloaks on now do we?" inquired Violet, "Won't we been seen?"

"Nah, Violet", replied Klaus, getting his cloak caught briefly on Hedwig's cage. "As it says in Hogwarts: A History, the Castle is protected by many an anti-muggle charm."

"Oh, OK" she replied as she brushed down her cloak ready to go.

And not too soon for just as she'd done that, the familiar rush of steam sounded and the train was there: the Baudelaire's first glimpse of Hogwarts. The nerves of earlier were gone and the three orphans felt confident as they departed the train: Olaf was out of their lives for good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Hope is a very strange and complex emotion, for it comes in many forms. There's the hope the waiter will remember to remove the anchovies from the left half of the pizza. The hope for a new love to blossom. There's the hope of a mother for the future of her children. And the hope of an author that his research will bring to light the truth surrounding the Baudelaire's unfortunate circumstances. Hope is certainly a strange emotion, but not as strange as the sight of a hundred winged horse-like creatures, standing in line waiting to pull the morass of students up to the castle.

"What do we do?" called Violet to Klaus, over the noise of the bustling crowd in front of her.

"I don't know", cried Klaus.

"Uvlum", said Sunny to Violet.

"Yes, but how do we get there?"

"Firs' years, over 'ere! This way firs' years!" boomed a loud voice. "Come on, firs' years. Ain't got al' day!"

"Do we go with him?" asked Klaus, "we're not first years…"

"Yeah, and those creatures don't look so friendly."

"Come on Violet!" said Ron from deep in the crowd, "You're not a first year, are you?"

With just a quick sideways glance to her brother, she made the one step forward and was immediately swept off with the crowd. In no time, she was standing right next to Ron in front of the giant Thestral before her.

"What is that?" said Violet, reluctantly, "couldn't you just use a normal horse?"

"Huh? What's what?"

Violet pointed to the demon-like creature, rearing on its hind legs and snorting rather violently. "That!"

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, slightly confused, "There's nothing there, Violet!"

"Yes there is! It's standing right there, rearing on its hind legs and snorting rather violently"

"Vrai!" said Sunny in agreement.

"You're both mad." said Ron, leaping up onto the awaiting coach, "Just get in."

Despite being slightly annoyed that she wasn't being listened to, Violet heeded. She didn't want to have an argument yet - she'd only just met him. With her entry to the carriage, the large Thestral made one last snort and cantered off towards the inviting castle. Neither Violet nor Sunny had any idea what was in store for them upon reaching those doors but it felt like they were coming home, arriving back to the happy life they had led before.

As the coach halted outside the gate and the loud chattering of students resumed, Violet was forced out of her thoughts and onto the task at hand: finding Klaus.

"He must have gone with Harry and Hermione" she said to the quiet Sunny curled up in her arms. "Yes. I hope he remembers about Professor McGonagall."

Sure enough, as if on cue, the tabby cat that was sitting on the wall behind them transfigured back into the strict figure that everyone at Hogwarts knew to be Professor McGonagall.

"This way, Violet!" she ushered, startling Violet slightly, "I've not got all day."

Violet turned round. "You must be ... Professor McGonagall?"

Taking up a quick pace, the professor turned and started walking up the stone steps to the Hogwarts entrance hall. Inside, there was even more of a ruckus than at the station. An excited buzz seemed to eminate from each of the students: a new term, a new start. Ron had found Harry, Hermione and Klaus and, dodging the characteristic water bombs from Peeves, traversed unhindered into the awaiting Great Hall.

"Aren't you supposed to be meeting Professor McGonagall now?" said Hermione to Klaus, looking slightly worried, "It must be important."

"Oh, yes!" the trio heard as they watched the figure of Klaus running out of the entrance hall.

"Who was that?" whispered Dean Thomas from accross the table, "Why have I never seen him before?"

"Oh, hi Dean!" Harry leant forward. "That was Klaus. He's new here with his two sisters, I think they're orphans."

"I didn't know students could join in the fourth year."

From the seat a couple of places down came an audible "Hmmph"

"Oh, be quiet Hermione." said Ron, disapprovingly.

With another annoyed "Hmmph", Hermione rejoined her conversation with Lavendar Brown.

"Ignore her", Ron said. "She's been like this since we left."

"Heh - so how've you been, Ron?"

"Oh, fine. A pretty uneventful summer, really."

A deep, loud cough echoed from the front of the hall; everyone turned to look. "Students, teachers, ghosts." His voice sounded almost majestic. "Let the sorting begin!"

A line of first years duly enter the hall, followed by the characteristic Professor McGonagall. She put the chair and the sorting hat at the front and directed the first in line to the chair

As the very nervous "Ariel, Ardent" sat down on the stool, the hushed chatting began again and as she was duly sorted into Ravenclaw, the cheering began. The sorting was always entertaining.

"Brians, Francis", called Professor McGonagall.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Demzies, Michael"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Drachma, George!"

"Slytherin!"

"Knight, Helena"

"Gryffindor!"

And so it continued. Just as the students thought the line would never finish, "Zynthicyl, Jeremy" was called (and sorted into Hufflepuff) and Dumbledore stood up, clapping politely. "This year, alongside all of the other fine wizards and witches, we have two other additions to our studentship. Klaus Baudelaire, please seat yourself on the stool and place the hat on your head."

As the plainly nervous Klaus placed the hat on his head, almost immediately, he heard it speak to him. "Hmm, a late starter, eh? Very astute. Intelligent. Interesting. You'd do well in Ravenclaw with this mind. Yet. There's something else here, grit, bravery. Yes, yes."

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

A smile broadened on Klaus' face and cheers emanated from the Gryffindors.

"And Violet Baudelaire" called Dumbledore, finishing clapping for Klaus. Before the hat even touched her head, the loud "GRYFFINDOR!" could be heard echoing round the building.

A glint shone from Dumbledore's eye as the cheers sounded. "Very good. Now, I'm sure you're all considerably hungry at this point, so I have very little to say. Let the eating commence."

With that, as if by magic, all of the plates across the giant hall suddenly filled theirselves with all of the inviting foodstuffs one could imagine. There was turkey, chicken, lamb, beef. There were mashed potatoes, fried potatoes, chips, boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, carrots, peas, broccoli and many vegetables even Ron had never seen before.

"The House elves have really outdid themselves this time" said Ron excitedly.

With another "Humph!" from Hermione, everyone ate until bursting, then some more. The delighted sounds of laughter emanated from the hall for at least half an hour before the plates cleared away and left the most fantastic array of cakes, fruits, creams, ices, yoghurts, tarts appeared. The three orphans were eating the heartiest of all, they hadn't experience such a generous meal in a long, long time.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "That was delicious. Now, down to business."

The room hushed almost immediately. Dumbledore waited a few seconds.

"I have a few announcements to make. The Forbidden Forest is, as always, out of bounds." Dumbledore waited for the sniggers to subside. "And we have two new staff members, due to the sad departure of Professor Lupin last year. Let me introduce Professor Gorgachio, our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, and Professor Huttle, the caretaker's new assistant.

Amongst the excitement of the meal and the new life that the Baudelaires felt they were receiving, they had not once looked up at the staff table. When they turned round with everyone else to look, they knew that this was a mistake. They were too shocked to clap. They had seen the tattoo on his turned-up trousers and the one eyebrow across his face. He wasn't Professor Gorgachio. He was the one person they hoped not to see at Hogwarts. Count Olaf.

As I said, hope is a very strange emotion. Without it, life would be more difficult to lead, yet there's nothing worse than losing the hope, especially by smelling the bad breath of a villain that you'd hoped was out of your lives forever.

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A/N: Please read and review:)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A/N: After receiving various messages along the lines of "I thought Dumbledore said he would keep them safe" and "How come they can do magic now?", my only response is "You'll see soon enough." How annoyingly vague, I know, but still, you will in the end.

A/N2: And I'm ever so sorry for not updating sooner. You know, school, holidays, lack of plot bunnies, all take their toll. Anyway, so long as I get some reviews, I should update again next week. Thanks for staying with me.

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The Headmaster's office was a large, round room, panelled in deep oak wood from floor to ceiling. To one end was Fawkes, the phoenix, a beautiful bird with great healing powers. The rest of the room was lined with shelves and cabinets, holding all manner of books and magical objects. The portraits of previous headmasters, currently sleeping, faced Dumbledore's desk.

Dumbledore turned to look at Fawkes, clearly in deep thought. Still looking at Fawkes, he walked over to a particularly large cabinet to his left and took out a large container, which gave off a silver glow. Drawing his wand to his head, he pulled a long silver strand a tipped this into the translucent liquid in the container.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing, Phineas?"

The portrait to his right opened his eyes too quickly to have been really sleeping. "It is not for me to say, Headmaster"

"No, I don't suppose it is"

"But, if you want my opinion," he continued, as if not hearing the reply, "you must ask yourself this: how often are you ever wrong?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, but the stakes are so much higher this time."

The portrait looked shrewd. "Then you know what to do."

With that, the portrait went back to pretending to sleep. Dumbledore, pulling another thread from his temple and placing it in the shiny substance, bent down and put his head into the container.

He found himself in a dark street lined with street lamps, half of which were broken. There was a brisk wind and the moon was high and bright. In front of him, stood himself, though younger, and with bright auburn hair. This man walked forward and Dumbledore followed. The other Dumbledore turned round but didn't seem to notice the old Dumbledore's existence. They heard a crash from inside the house opposite where they were standing and not taken aback one bit, they strode purposefully to the front door of the house and knocked three times loudly on the door. The crashing stopped and they heard footsteps coming towards them from inside.

"Who is it?" cried a woman's voice from inside.

"Albus." replied the other Dumbledore. "Albus Dumbledore"

Looking shocked, she peered through the glass window in the door and swiftly unlocked it. She was an old woman, wearing glasses slightly askew, giving her a slightly mad look that was not helped by her many, brightly-coloured shawls draping over the floor.

"What brings you here at such a time?"

"I was looking for you, Verity." he replied, his voice clear but inviting, "May I enter?"

"Well, if you only would have told me, I might have cleared up." she said, sounding nervous, but opening the door all the same. "It's a bit of a mess, you know. Terrible business ... not had time to tidy ... Florean Formitune, who'd have guessed? I mean, he's the last ..."

She stopped mid-sentence, as if only just noticing that he was there. "Can I offer you something to drink, Sir?"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you." he replied, "but I'll make it."

"Why of course, Albus." she said, though looking slightly put out. She showed Dumbledore into what looked to be a lounge, though it looked slightly neglected, with papers all over the floor and the walls lined with photographs, the subjects of which looked angry at the intruder. The old Dumbledore followed and took his seat opposite, totally ignored by the other two.

Waving his wand, two tea cups appeared and he proceeded to fill them with tea. Taking a cup, he sipped and offered the other to the woman, who took it and sipped it herself. She seemed to have regained composure, "So what did you want then, Albus?"

He looked calmly at her. "As I said, I wished to talk with you."

"Yes, I did hear you," she replied, looking slightly affronted, "but what did you wish to talk to me about?"

"I would have thought that would be obvious, Verity."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she replied, though looking nervous.

He sipped and looked calmly at her again. "I wished to talk about what happened in Minitius Avenue last Sunday."

"I have already given my statement on that, as you well know, Albus"

His voice invited confidence. "Yes, you have, Verity."

She put down her mug, dramatically. "And there's nothing more to add!"

"That," he said, slightly more strongly, but still with that cool invitation to confidence, "as we both know, is not true."

Looking more nervous than ever, she turned to the left, and back to the right before looking back into Dumbledore's clear blue eyes. "Yes ... Well ... It wasn't my fault!"

"What wasn't your fault, Verity?"

"Well ... you see ... I was walking along Minitius Avenue, minding my own business, when I ... when I ..." She paused. When Dumbledore failed to respond, she continued. "When I saw this snake. Big it was, huge in fact. Well, you know I'm scared of snakes, so I hid. I don't think it saw me. No, I can't have seen me."

"What did the snake do?"

"Well ... this is going to sound mad ... it kind of talked. Not in human tongue, but in hisses, in snake language."

"That does not sound mad, Verity"

"Well ... yes ... it seemed kind of angry. Then a man appeared. Tall, he was, wearing a long, black cloak. He looked kind of handsome, actually."

"Did the man say anything?"

"I'm not sure I should be saying this, you know, Albus. How do I know I can trust you?"

"Did the man say anything?" Dumbledore repeated, calmly as ever.

"Well, I don't suppose it could harm", she seemed to conclude, though still looking uncomfortable. "He did in fact. He seemed to be pleading with the snake. 'I couldn't do it, Master. Please don't hurt me. I tried my hardest.' he said ... I didn't have a clue what he was on about. The snake didn't seem to accept this. He hissed considerably louder at the man ... I felt sorry for the man, I did ... then, he kind of switched to English. 'You obviously did not hear me well enough, miserable man. The Baudelaires could destroy everything. I do not accept incompetence, as you know well, Florean.' Before, the man could plead more, the snake hissed again and the man fell to the floor, screaming in pain. It was horrible. After that, I kind of ran ... I only heard about his death yesterday morning."

After that, Dumbledore couldn't seem to get another word from her, she seemed totally immobilised by the thick tears streaming from her face. The old Dumbledore seemed to think he'd seem enough and with flick of his wand, was gone.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Breakfast at Hogwarts was always a raucous affair, especially on the first day of term. The multitude of different foods lining the four, long house tables looked delicious and everyone seemed to have three of everything. As the post owls arrived, a large, Tawny owl landed in front of Harry and it held out its leg, waiting patiently for Harry to untie the scroll around it.

"I wonder who is could be from." said Hermione, eagerly.

"I don't know", said Harry, looking at his name scrawled on the side.

"Probably Hagrid", offered Ron, stuffing more toast into his mouth. "Wishing you a nice term"

"Snuffles!" Harry whispered:

_Dear Harry,_

_Hope you're ok and the Dursleys didn't treat you so badly over the summer. I'm safely out of harms way at the moment, but I can't tell you where, in case this gets intercepted._

_Look. I want to talk to you, and soon. There's some important news to give you that can't be written in a letter. Ask your new Baudelaire friends to come, I need all of you. When's your first Hogsmeade trip?_

_Reply soon,_

_Snuffles._

Harry scribbled next Wednesday on the back and re-tied it to the owl, who flew back off into the distance.

"I wonder what it could be" said Ron, clearly excited at the prospect of meeting Sirius again.

"It doesn't sound good to me" said Hermione, putting down her bacon. "We don't want him risking his safety. And how did he know about the Baudelaires?"

"Oh, shut it, Hermione. Stop being so sensible!"

She looked affronted. "I'm just trying to keep him safe, that's all, Ron."

"Well, Harry's meeting him anyway, aren't you, Harry."

Without wanting to offend either of them, he couldn't really think of what to say. "He can't be in that much danger. Still nobody knows he's an animagus, do they?"

She turned indignantly to Lavender Brown next to her. "Fine. If you want to risk Snuffles going back to Azkaban, then who am I to stop you?"

"Oh, she's just upset that nobody wrote to her." said Ron to Harry, though Harry looked unconvinced.

The tension wasn't allowed to last long, however, since a tall, stern-looking woman, wearing thin spectacles and hair in bun walked along the table, handing out timetables.

"Here you are, Potter, Granger, Weasley. Your timetables." she said, before walking on to Dean Thomas sitting next to them.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked over their timetables "At least we don't have Snape and Binns on the same day" Ron concluded finally.

"Yeah, and look – we have that new Professor Gorgachio for Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon, after Herbology. Didn't Violet and Klaus say something about him?"

Hermione turned back round once again, "Only that he is Count Olaf, an evil Count who wants desperately to steal their fortune. He's sitting up there."

"They have a fortune?" recoiled Ron is surprise.

"You never listen, do you Ron?"

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

The Baudelaires woke up in a totally different mood that morning. None had been able to sleep that night, all fearing the worst in the morning. Slowly, as they saw the light beginning to stream through the Windows, they decided they best get up, and walked slowly down to the Common Room.

"Where is everyone?" Klaus asked as he got down to the bottom of the staircase.

"They must be at breakfast already. Are we really that late?" his sister replied.

"Must be. Let's go – we need our new timetables."

"Did you sleep? I couldn't at all – why does Olaf have to always ruin everything. I thought it'd be great here."

"I don't know" Klaus replied, sullenly. '"But if we're going down, we'd better go."

And with that, they went through the portrait hole and down to breakfast and the awaiting stares they'd get on their arrival.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

A/N3: Yeah, I know the Baudelaire stuff isn't too good yet, but it will get good. You wait. Please Read and Review to avoid another two month break from updating :P.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A/N: Thanks all for the positive response. You'll continue to be drip-fed for a while...

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"Good morning, good morning, class!" boomed a deep, operatic voice from behind the Baudelaires. "Chop chop now everyone, I've not got all day. That's it – good!"

The long line of Gryffindors followed Olaf's lead, as his robes swept through the door. All looked mildly amused, except the Baudelaires, who exchanged worried looks (a phrase which here means "looks of what could only be described as pure terror") before entering.

Classrooms always represented their teachers, and this classroom was no different. The walls adorned with portraits of many famous dramatists, the room looked highly comical. On the desk at the front lay a large pile of papers, each stamped with a black mark that looked somewhat like an eye, and no fewer than twenty-six hand mirrors – although the students could not be expected to count them all before they sat down.

Olaf cleared his throat. "Hello, class. I am Professor Gorgachio, and I shall be your truly amazing teacher for this year."

The class started to whisper amusedly.

"That is enough, class." the evil Count said in a theatrical stage-whisper. "I will be the one to speak in my classes, thank you."

He cleared his throat and spoke once again. "I am here," he paused theatrically, "to teach you about the Dark Arts." He stopped talking, as though expecting some sort of reaction, perhaps a series of loud gasps, terrified shrieks and melodramatic expressions (a phrase which here means "various ridiculous actions and maybe the odd soliloquy or two, followed by people jumping out of windows, which actually never happens in real life, and certainly did not happen here.").

Looking extremely put-out, he nodded and began to pace. "The Dark Arts and their practitioners are often thought to be..." he paused, as though searching for a useful synonym for the word 'dark', "...darker than their... Light counterparts." He nodded proudly, then looked to the class, who stared back uncooperatively. "In this class, you will be taught the Darkest of the Dark Arts, in an attempt to aid you in your valiant battle against the foulness that infests our world today!" As he spoke, his voice rose, until he was shouting and beating his fist into the air.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding," Ron whispered, low enough for Harry to hear.

Olaf spun around and pointed a finger at the Gryffindor. "YOU!" he bellowed. "Be silent, or you shall never learn the subtle nuances of grace and finesse that will allow you to succeed in the theatre."

Hermione raised her hand almost immediately, her expression showing a mixture of confusion and nervousness. "But, sir, I thought you were going to teach us Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Olaf frowned, looking around the class of nervous and amused faces. He shifted and stood proudly. "Ten points from... from... your house."

"Gryffindor, sir," she absently corrected.

"Yes, that too," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Very well then. The Dark Arts."

"The Dark Arts. Yes. The Dark Arts and their practitioners are often thought to be darker than their Light counterparts. In this class, you will be taught the Darkest of the Dark Arts, in an attempt to aid you in your valiant battle against the foulness that infests our world today!"

"To demonstrate this, I will need a volunteer. Klaus Baudelaire! Please step to the front of the class." His smirk seemed only visible to the Baudelaires, as if masked by his flamboyant wave.

Klaus froze, utterly petrified. The whole class looked at him and he could feel their eyes boring into him.

"Don't do it. Don't go." whispered Violet to Klaus, clearly as worried as he was.

"Eku!" cried Sunny.

Finding strength in his legs not there ten seconds ago, he got to his feet. Due to the giggles coming from the girls at the front, Klaus knew that he looked silly, but nonetheless, his face looked resolved. "I must, Violet. Dumbledore trusted us, we must do the same for him."

Olaf's smirk broadened. "Come now, Klaus. The theatre waits for no man!"

Violet's expression became more worried. "Klaus! Don't -"

Before Klaus heard what Violet was about to say, he strode purposefully to the front of the class. The whispers from the girls in front certainly didn't help his resolve, however, and his legs seemed to quaver slightly over the last few paces. "But he's the _new_ boy. How's he supposed to do _anything_ with those old rags on! Why didn't he pick _me_! I'm much better than some _new_ boy!"

As he reached the desk, the evil Count swooped on him majestically. His face was now so near to Klaus's that he could smell the putrid breath on his cheek. "No manner of books can help you now, boy." he whispered venomously, his voice nothing like the operatic one used earlier. "And where are your poor sisters? At the back of the class, aren't they?"

Klaus shot a look to his siblings, indeed at the back. He had never felt so alone.

Olaf took a large step forward, and called out dramatically. "All young Mr. Baudelaire here has to do -" another dramatic pause "- is kill me."

Seeing the shocked expressions on the faces of the rest of the class, Olaf smiled broadly. After a long pause, he continued, "But we will not be using magic. Many find this muggle way of fighting archaic in the highest, but I find it very useful. For instance, when I was doing the rounds of the theatres in London, an aptitude in sword-fighting was very important. As Henry V, in Henry the Fifth, by William Shakespeare..." He paused, waiting for recognition of this great role. When none came, looking slightly crestfallen, he continued, "I needed all of my quick wit and -"

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he glared, clearly irritated.

"Well, Sir, we established that you are supposed to be teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts. While William Shakespeare is certainly the master of the pen (as we can see in his technically astute and moving sonnets, as well as his great dramatic works), is he actually relevant to our lesson?"

The various shocked faces at Hermione challenging a teacher seemed to please Olaf immensely. "Another ten points from Gryffindor!" he cried "I am teaching this lesson, I think you will find!" A wave of his hand seemed to close the subject.

"Anyway, yes, Young Klaus' task. Here, I have prepared two swords." he gestured broadly to the two swords sitting at the side of the room. "Please take your sword, Klaus."

As the class turned back from the gleaming, metal implements that rested themselves against the wall, the Baudelaires heard a few shocked gasps that quickly turned into loud giggles. Klaus was lying on the floor in a crumpled heap, obviously having fainted.

Olaf smirked as he saw the body of Klaus on the floor. "He seems to have fainted" he cried, "and nobody noticed! If one is to faint, he audience need to know that he's fainted, since it usually plays a large role in the plot."

Not listening at all, Violet grabbed Sunny and ran out with Klaus, to the continued jeers of the rest of the class.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

The Baudelaires did not enjoy their first week of Hogwarts. Within hours (quite slow, in fact, for the school), news had spread of Klaus fainting in the lesson. The jeers that were for the Baudelaires' tattered, old clothes, had changed to that of 'Collapsing Klaus'. None of the jibes and jeers were worse than that of the Slytherins, however.

"So, Baudelaire." called Malfoy one morning, when he could see plenty of people were watching.

Klaus looked worriedly back at him, his legs refusing to move. Malfoy continued to sneer. "Or shouldn't I talk to you? Maybe you'll collapse again?" his tone changing to that of fake concern. "Maybe you need Madam Pomfrey?"

The Slytherins started a round of laughter anew. It seemed to cut into Klaus like a knife. He swung round, his legs now able to move, and made a swing for Malfoy's face. Malfoy darted to evade the punch and drew his wand, but this was, as it seemed, unnecessary. Obviously caught on his robes, Klaus had over-balanced, landing at Malfoy's feet, glasses askew, one leg in the air.

"I thought you would have learnt since on the train." Malfoy sneered, and as always flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, he about faced and was gone.

"Klaus!" cried Violet and Hermione together and they walked around the corner and ran towards the crowd. "What happened?"

They didn't seem to care about the jeers circling around, but Klaus clearly did. He darted up and, without putting his glasses on again, lunged at the crowd. Through his blurred vision, he made out clearly one of those jeering.

"RON!", he fumed, but clearly couldn't get out any more words. He grabbed Ron's shoulders and started to shake him, though he was swatted away immediately. Rejected, dejected and defeated, he collapsed to the floor, crying.

"Why does it happen to me?" he sobbed to himself, as Hermione and Violet lifted him up and took him back to the common room, shooting looks of loathing to Ron as the crowd departed. "I don't believe you, Ron.", Ron heard from Hermione before she was round the corner again.


End file.
